


Her Little Secret

by CharlotteAshmore



Series: Her Little Secret verse [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteAshmore/pseuds/CharlotteAshmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumpelstiltskin knew Belle long before they made their deal. A long time. My take on what happened before they made their deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. CHANCE MEETING

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT or any of its characters. Not for profit. Entertainment purposes only.

The beauty of the approaching sunset did little to soothe him as he lowered himself to the ground and braced his back against the trunk of a towering oak tree, letting the magic of the ancient tree seep into his bones.  Another wasted trip.  Rumpelstiltskin, the Dark One, the Deal Maker and most feared sorcerer in the realm had once again been called upon to wield his magic. . . for a price.  Always for a price.  The magic demanded it.  Another desperate soul to bend with his web of magic and sorcery, always taking more than giving.  But there was nothing he’d been able to do for the poor woman.  She’d delivered another stillborn child, her third and she’d called upon him to help her.  He sighed wearily and closed his eyes at the memory.  Magic could do much, but not that.  With all the power at his disposal, he was unable to restore life to the dead.

        He had a soft spot for children.  He’d been a father once, centuries ago.  He would have done anything for his precious son, his Baelfire.  But that was another story.  A story fraught with pain and loss and remorse and he refused to dig it from his bank of memories to torture himself this evening.  He took in his surroundings beneath the ancient oak in the field of wildflowers he’d chosen to rest.  In the distance he could see the tiny kingdom nestled against the shore and wondered if maybe he could find another desperate soul in the small village, something to salvage the time he’d wasted.  He started slightly when the bells atop the small church began to ring.  Another death?  No matter.  He wasn’t there to offer solace to the bereaved.  After all, who would take solace from the arms of a monster?

        He was weary, tired of the deals, tired of the loneliness that crept into the darkness of his soul.  Maybe that was why he’d lingered here longer than necessary instead of returning to the Dark Castle.  His castle, his home filled with the treasures he’d collected over the centuries, offered every comfort imaginable.  But what use were his collections and his creature comforts when he had no one to share it with.  Love and family were bleakly absent from his existence.  Sometimes he wondered if he’d be better off ending it and throwing himself upon his own dagger.  It was these melancholy thoughts that had him so distracted that he didn’t hear her approach.

        “Why do you look so sad?” asked a small tinkling feminine voice from somewhere above him.  He cracked open an eye and looked up at the child, no more than seven or thereabout, that had asked the question.  He didn’t move, not wanting to frighten the child.

        “Who says I’m sad?” he returned, keeping his tone low and even.  “What do you even know of such things?”

        She tried to smile at him, although it came out as more of a grimace.  “I assure you, sir, I know what sadness is.  And I know how to recognize it in others.”  She dropped onto the grass beside him next to his hip, drawing her legs up to wrap her arms about her knees and he had to fight to remain still when his instinct was to flee from her closeness.  No one ever wanted to get too near him.  The fearlessness of youth, he thought with a wry smile.

        The girl intrigued him, her words suited more to a much older child of fourteen maybe.  “Who are you, pet?  Where are your parents?”  Her clothing was fine and well made, her hair braided into an intricate plait and adorned with jewels, marking her as a member of the nobility.  Surely with the sun setting, someone had missed her by now.  Why was she out in the fields surrounding the kingdom all alone?  Could she not fathom the dangers that lurked unsuspecting in the dark?

        Her lower lip trembled as she raised her jewel-bright eyes to meet his gaze.  The crystal-blue orbs were filled with such sadness, he had to stop himself from reaching out to draw her into his arms, to offer her the comfort she sought.  “I. . . did you hear the bells?  That was for my mother.  I couldn’t stay and watch them take her away.  So I ran.  I ran until my legs began to hurt.  That’s when I found you,” she whispered into the night, her voice carrying to him on the slight breeze.  She choked back a sob as the tears began to spill from her eyes.

        Rumpelstiltskin abandoned his perch against the ancient tree and sat up, peering closely at the child, his nose scant inches from hers.  “You’re just a wee lass.  You should have a protector to guard you against the dangers that lurk out here.”

        She peered back at him just as intently, fascinated with the greenish gold tint of his skin and the way the sun made it glitter in the warm light.  She held his eyes with her own, wondering how he’d gained such wondrous amber eyes the color of warm honey.  “It is easy to run away from the guards my father sets to watch me.  I am nothing but a spoiled little princess to them.  They don’t see me, just the title,” she explained in a resigned tone.  She reached up her little hand and touched his cheek, marveling at the texture of his skin.  She’d thought it would be rough, but it was as smooth as her own.  “You’re quite lovely.  Did you know that?”

        He drew back from her innocent touch, unused to human contact.  His face tingled where her hand had rested and he didn’t know how to react to her kindness or her words.  _Lovely, indeed,_ he snorted.  “You must be a strange child indeed if you can find a monster lovely.”

        She giggled at his wounded pride.  “You’re not a monster.  You’re just a man resting in the meadow against my favorite tree.  If you were truly a monster, surely you would have devoured me by now and taken your leave,” she teased.

        “Who are you, pet?  What is your name?” he asked.  He was slowly being drawn under her spell and was desperate to find a way to break it before it broke _him_.  He watched the sun sink lower as she took her time forming her answer, hesitant to trust a stranger and knowing the dangers that awaited her if she did.

        “I belong to the castle over the hill,” she said, pointing in the distance.  “I am Princess Belle.”  She held out her hand to shake his.  Her eyes widened as he took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles for a brief kiss.  A pretty blush rose to settle in the apples of her cheeks.  “No one has ever done that before,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper, as if she were afraid someone would overhear her.

        His laugh was warm when it came, a genuine laugh instead of the maniacal giggle that usually spewed forth from his mouth.  “I may be a monster, dearie, but I do know how to greet the nobility.  And that is the proper greeting for a princess.  It’s getting quite late for you to be traipsing about the countryside.  Would you allow me to escort you home?”

        Belle ducked her head and pressed her cheek against her knees.  “I don’t want to go home.”

        He frowned at the child princess as she sat there, her heart in her eyes.  But he couldn’t allow himself to care that she was sad or lost, like him.  So why did he?  He had to tread delicately with her so as not to alienate her and make her run again.  “I’m sorry about your mother, pet.  But how would your father be if he lost you as well?  Is it fair to him to lose you both?”  He placed a long finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to his.  “Besides, tomorrow you will be able to tell all your friends of the monster you met in the meadow.”

        She rose angrily to her feet.  “I don’t have any friends.  The children all think I’m odd and different and don’t want to have anything to do with me.  “Even the other nobles don’t want to play with me.”

        His eyes narrowed dangerously.  Ungrateful whelps.  How could anyone not want to be friends with the disarming child before him?  He could have so much fun turning the little buggars into snails for her to squash.  “Why is that?  Why do they not see your worth?”

        “It doesn’t matter,” she said softly, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve and blowing her nose.  “I have my books, I don’ need the others.  I would rather spend time in my library anyway.”

        He thought of the immense library full of books that he hadn’t used in such a long time.  Maybe he could bring her a new book next time he had need to visit this kingdom.  That thought struck him as odd that he wouldn’t mind visiting her again.  He pushed the thought away and looked down at her as he rose to his feet.  It was increasingly difficult to see her in the waning light.  “Come, pet.  Let’s get you home.”

        She slipped her small hand into his much larger one and stepped to his side.  She took a step forward to begin the trek back to the castle, but he pulled her back to his side with a laugh.  “I thought we were leaving.”

        He dropped to one knee and smiled at her.  “We are, pet, but not to walk.  We’re going to use magic.”  And before she could protest, a plume of violet smoke engulfed them, transporting them to the topmost parapet of the castle.

        Belle’s eyes were wide and filled with awe as she took in her surroundings.  “That was amazing.  I’ve read about magic in my books, but I never thought I would experience it for myself.  This is the best birthday present I’ve ever received.”

        He was taken aback by that revelation.  “It’s your birthday?”

        She nodded shyly.  “Today I turned ten years old.”

        He tucked a stray curl behind her ear, surprised that she didn’t recoil at his touch.  “Happy birthday, pet.”  She dipped a quick curtsy.  He drew the hood of his cloak about his head to hide his face and took her hand once again.  “Show me where your room is so I may escort you.”

        Belle led him down stairwells and corridors until his head spun, finally coming to a stop before an oak door.  She pushed the door open and let go of his hand, walking into the room to make certain her nursemaid wasn’t lurking about.  She took his hand once more and led him into her room, moving to another door and pushing it open.  It opened up onto a grand terrace where her private garden was.  There were stone benches and a cherry blossom tree and more rose bushes than he could count.

        “This is where I spend my time when I am not in the library.  Sometimes I like to sit on the bench and read,” she said proudly, wanting him to see her sanctuary, wanting to share this little piece of her life with him.

        “It suits you.  Beauty for a little beauty,” he said with a smile as she sat down on the bench and looked up at him expectantly.  “What?”

        “Won’t you sit with me?”

        With just a moment’s indecision, he dropped down to sit next to her.  “I should go.” He said with a growing sense of unease.  He didn’t want to be caught with the child, no matter how innocent the situation may be.

        “Sir, would you visit me again?  Would you be my friend?” she asked hesitantly, tears gathering in her eyes.  “It would be nice if I had someone to talk to from time to time.”

        His heart melted for the girl.  She was surrounded by family and servants and guards, but she was heartbreakingly lonely.  How could her father not see the pain she was in?  He patted her shoulder awkwardly and nodded.  “I will, Belle.  I’ll visit you again.”  He rose from the bench and turned to go, but paused one last time to look down at her upturned face.  “And you don’t have to call me sir.  I have a name.”

        She chuckled softly, her voice sweet and melodious on the still night air.  “But you haven’t told me what it is.”

        He didn’t really want to give her his name.  It was only going to frighten her.  Surely she had heard of the Dark One.  What parent didn’t scare their children into submission with tales of the evil imp to get them to mind their manners?  He bowed low to her, meeting her gaze.  “My name is. . . Rumpelstiltskin.”


	2. LITTLE VISITS

Rumpelstiltskin made it a practice to visit the little princess on the last day of each month.  Belle had wormed herself inside his heart with her inquisitiveness, her questions and her light banter.  She never batted an eye at his quips and most times would laugh at them.  He craved her companionship just as she craved his.  The little princess was his best friend in the world.  He could sit for hours just listening to her read to him in her little garden surrounded by the roses and closed off from the outside world.  She didn’t run screaming from him in fear, but welcomed him with a hug and a kiss to his brow.  He never touched her, but she never hesitated to touch _him_.  Nothing inappropriate, just the lightest touch on his hand or his arm if she became excited or wanted to express other feelings.  And it was him she wanted to share those feelings with, because she cared for him. 

        When out deal making about the realm, he would find his thoughts turning to her.  Would she like this certain village?  What would she think of this view?  Would she care to go swimming under a waterfall?  He found himself wandering into book shops, much to the shop keeper’s dismay, to peruse the selection to see if there was a book she didn’t own.  He made certain to have a new book for her on each of his visits with the hopes that she would read to him.  She would sit on her garden bench with him at her feet and read to him under the moonlight and he would feel so at peace, content to listen to her voice and let it ease the ache that dominated his soul, the ache of loneliness.

        Belle knew who he was.  The little minx had researched him for an entire month after that first visit to find out everything she could about her new friend.  “I know who you are, Rumpelstiltskin,” she’d said sweetly.  “You’re the deal maker, the Dark One.”

        “Aren’t you frightened, pet?” he’d asked, astonished that she was so blasé about his reputation.

        “Of course not,” she’d answered.  “You’re my friend.  That’s all that matters.”

        He’d never known anyone like her before.  He’d never had a friend like her before, nor a friend period.  She was an enigma, one that he yearned to solve.  With the knowledge she possessed, he waited for the day she herself would ask for a deal.  After two years, he was still waiting.  After another two years, he waited still, but she never asked for anything except his time.  And one day a month wasn’t too much to spare for his little friend.  One evening to enjoy her company and listen to her lilting voice.  He couldn’t quite recall when the game changed.

        One evening she had stopped reading in the middle of the new book he’d given her and asked him to tell her a story.  “And what can I tell you that you haven’t already learned about me from your research?”

        “I’d like you to tell me things that I can’t find in books,” she’d said softly, laying her hand on his arm, her eyes pleading of him to share something personal with her.  She’d already fallen into the habit of telling him even the smallest happenings in her life.  There was nothing he didn’t know of his little royal.  But to open up to her and bare his blackened soul.  She would surely want to have nothing more to do with him.  “Please, Rumpel.  Please let me know you, the real you.”

        After that, on each visit, she would read half of her book and spend the rest of the evening engrossed in a tale of his life.  He could happily say that it was more or less a cleansing of his soul as he bared himself to her.  She never judged him for the deeds in his past.  She showed him sympathy as opposed to pity for his failed marriage and lost family.  She showed horror over his tale of his time spent fighting the ogres.  So it came as a great shock to him when he found himself smiling stupidly and whistling through the Dark Castle as the days approached for his next visit.  For the first time in centuries, he was happy, happy to have someone to share his life with even though she was just his friend.  He was content.

        Three days before her fourteenth birthday, her frantic cry lanced through his consciousness.  He’d urged her many times over the years to call upon him if she was in danger or had great need of his services.  In all the years he’d known her, she’d never called him and he was scared.  He wasted not a moment before he appeared at her side to find her an emotional wreck.  She was in the garden, tears coursing down her face, wringing her hands in distress.  Her lips formed one word, _please_ , over and over again.

        “Belle…”  He never called her by her name.  It was always _pet_ or _dearie._   But he let it slip in his worry over her.  “What’s wrong?”

        Belle threw herself into his arms, her relief so great she didn’t cast a care for propriety or that he might be uncomfortable by her closeness.  She just knew she needed the comfort of her friend.  “I’m sorry, Rumpel.  I’m sorry I called you when it wasn’t an emergency.  I just needed you,” she sobbed, her face pressed into the crook of his neck.

        “Don’t cry, Belle.  Tell me what I can do.  I’ll fix it if you tell me what happened,” he crooned, smoothing his hand over her hair.

        “Papa is sending me off to school in the Frontlands.  It’s supposed to prepare me for the life he has all mapped out for me.  It’s a waste of my time,” she said, her anger over the injustice helping to quell the tears.  “I will have to sleep and eat and study in a strange place.  I’m frightened, Rumpel, but that’s not the worst of it.”  She raised her tear-stained face up to his.  “I won’t be able to spend time with you anymore.  How can I go away and be parted from you?”

        He continued to smooth her hair and whisper nonsense in her ear to soothe her heartbreak.  A heartbreak that he shared.  What would he do with himself without the visits he so looked forward to?  They were taking his friend away by some cruel twist of fate.  Unless.  “You can write to me, pet.  You can send as many letters as you like and I promise to answer every one.”

        “It’s not the same as seeing you, Rumpel,” she whined.  She was miserable and determined to share her misery with her friend.

        “Compromise?”

        Belle narrowed her tear-bright eyes on him.  “What kind of compromise?”

        “Each summer that you get to come home, I will double the time I spend with you in that month.  Instead of seeing you only one day in a chosen month, you will have two.  Is that acceptable?” he asked hopefully.  Anything to help to ease her pain.

        “No,” she said stubbornly, raising her chin and crossing her arms across her nonexistent bosom.

        “What?”

        “Four days per month.  I will be away from you for nine months of the year and home only three.  As it is, I only get to spend twelve nights a year with you.  Therefore, to make up for our loss, I propose four nights a month so as not to lose one of the twelve.”  She made sense, and she was quite a shrewd deal maker herself.  Maybe he might bring her along on some of his own deals . . . when she was older perhaps.

        “Deal, pet.  Four nights per month during the summer.”  He tipped her chin up to look at him.  “Is that agreeable?  Does it calm your angst somewhat?” he asked, setting her away from him.

        “Yes.”

        He sat with her long into the night listening to her worries about school.  He couldn’t explain the mixed emotions he was experiencing over the whole affair.  He just felt loss and emptiness thinking of the long months he wouldn’t be able to see her.  He was somewhat relieved, however when she told him she was going to an all girl’s school.  Why should that concern him?  He worried that the other girls would tease her or shun her because she would be much smarter than them.  She was the most well-read female he’d ever known.  He assured her that he would set them straight if they treated her badly, but he had his suspicions that she wouldn’t tell him for just that reason.

        Perhaps it was because of her anxiety of being sent away that he “kidnapped” her for her birthday.  He came early that morning instead of in the evening, his eyes full of mischief and secrets and convinced her to leave the castle with him.  He brought her to a secret glen he’d stumbled upon in his travels, home to one of the most beautiful waterfalls in the realm.  Belle had frolicked in the water for almost five hours before exhaustion claimed her.  He’d stayed on the bank, perched upon a flat rock keeping watch over her.  Her safety was of the utmost importance to him when she was away from the protection of her home.  Most times he worried about her safety there as well.  He’d given her a thick tome of stories as her birthday gift and an orchid from his own garden, but he wouldn’t let her read to him that evening.  For the first time, he pressed his lips to her forehead and sent her off to bed.  She’d had enough fun for one day.

        He returned home to face the next nine months with nothing but letters to keep the melancholy and loneliness at bay.  When the end of the first month came, he tried to drink his way through his wine cellar.  The alcohol didn’t help.  It just made him feel worse.  He missed his little princess with a longing that wouldn’t be appeased until he could once again sit at her feet in the garden and listen to her sweet voice.  He answered each of her long letters with even longer ones.  She was miserable and he didn’t know what he could do to ease her unhappiness.  His presence would _not_ be welcomed at the exclusive girl’s school.

        So, once again he waited, the loneliness clawing at his soul.  And so it went year after year until the time came for her sixteenth birthday.  Belle was different when she came home that summer.  She was no longer the little girl that he’d met so long ago.  She was taller now, the top of her head even with his nose.  She took longer at her toilette and had her hair arranged in stylish coiffures instead of letting it hang loose down her back.  The straight lines of youth had formed into curves, and he felt his eyes drawn to them.  She wore gowns to flatter her curves and he found his eyes straying to the cleavage on display more than once.  What was wrong with him?  This was his little dearie, his pet, his friend.  He was finding himself more and more drawn to her and he didn’t know how to act around her, keeping a greater distance between them.  He refused to let himself feel more for a child of sixteen.

        And she noticed.  “Why do you pull away from me, Rumpel?  I’ve always embraced you.  Have I done something to displease you?”

        He scoffed and made light of it.  “Of course not, pet,” he answered.

        But he found himself looking for excuses to keep himself from seeing her.  It made his mood black and his deals sharper.  Pity to the desperate soul who should call on him in the summer months.  They would be lucky to escape with no mortal wounds.  He became distant with her and would cut his visits short, finding it painful to be in her presence.  It only got worse when she asked him to be her escort to her birthday ball.

        “Oh, yes, pet.  We will make quite the pair, the princess and the Dark One.  I’m certain your father will love that,” he said scathingly.

        Belle had lain her hand on his arm only to have him flinch away from her.  “It’s my ball and I want you to be there with me.  I care not a wit for the other guests that have been invited.  The whole reason my father is throwing the ball is to introduce me to eligible suitors.  I have no wish to be put on display.  I just want to spend my birthday with you, Rumpel.”

        “Maybe it would be good to meet new people.  Normal people your own age and station,” he’d said softly.  If she hadn’t been standing so close to him she probably wouldn’t have even heard.

        “I don’t want to meet anyone else.”  Belle had pressed herself to his chest and looped her hands behind his neck, her lips brushing ever so softly against his.  “I just want my Rumpelstiltskin.”

        _Holy flaming fairies!!!_   He couldn’t do this.  His Belle was only sixteen.  His whole world crashed down around his ears at the feel of her lips against his.  And he pushed her away as though she’d burned him.  Oh, if she had only known how she affected him.  Why did everything good in his life have to come crashing to a halt?   Why did she suddenly want their relationship to change?  She was older and experiencing feelings that were new to her.  Soon, two years at most and he was going to lose her to the man her father chose for her to marry.  It was going to have to come to an end, their relationship, eventually.  But why did it have to end now?  His stomach burned with the realization that he had lost her.

        “I can’t do this, Belle.  I can’t be more than your friend.”

        “Why?  Aren’t you willing to wait for me?  Don’t you love me even a little?”  Tears gathered in her eyes to join the hurt and pain already there, pain that he’d caused, hurt that he’d inflicted.  She reached for him and he stepped away, avoiding her touch.

        “I have to go, pet.  And I won’t be returning.  I can’t let you believe that we might have a future.  I can’t let you throw your life away on me.”  The pain of those words ripped a hole in his heart until he was left raw and bleeding.  He did love her.  When had he allowed himself to love her?

        Her eyes were pleading when they met his.  “Please don’t leave me.  I love you.  I’ve loved you since I first met you.  You are all I want, all I’ll ever want.  Don’t leave me.”

        A lone tear escaped his eye as he was enveloped in a plume of violet smoke.  Just as quickly as he had entered her life, he was gone, leaving heartbreak in his wake, his and hers.  She was sixteen, a fickle child.  She would find love with someone worthy of her.  She would find her love and her happiness.  It just wouldn’t be with him. 


	3. AWAKENING

Rumpelstiltskin woke with a blazing headache, curses falling like rain from his lips as he stumbled out of his bed, kicking empty whiskey bottles out of his path.  Today was Belle’s eighteenth birthday.  Today she was officially a woman.  It had been two years and three days since last he’d seen her.  Two years and three days and he hadn’t for one day been able to get the image of her to leave his mind.  Every day he had to relive those last moments when he’d rejected her and left her standing in her terrace garden.  Seven hundred and thirty three days since she’d embraced him, since she’d kissed him, since he’d seen her smile.  Gods!  The whiskey was not helping, he thought miserably as he threw up the contents of his stomach in the chamber pot.  She would be home for good now, no more school.  Her father would be looking for the perfect alliance to tie her to.  She would soon have a husband and children and a home of her own.  He didn’t even want to think of all the nights he’d lain awake thinking of her living in the Dark Castle, bearing his own children, sharing his bed.  He was slowly losing his mind.

        He dressed quickly, anxious to be done with the chore.  Not that he cared how he looked or how he was dressed.  He just didn’t want Regina to pay a visit and find him in his knickers again.  That was a memory he would happily test a memory charm on.  He shuddered.  The Great Hall was cold when he entered and sat at the long dining table, summoning a tea tray and hoping the hot brew would rid him of the bad taste in his mouth.  A crate of rolled parchment mocked him from the corner.  Seven hundred and thirty two letters from his love.  Each letter remained unopened.  He was too cowardly to read her words, written in her lovely looping penmanship.  He didn’t want to know that she hated him now.  He couldn’t bear to hear of her finding love with someone else.  He was afraid if he read her letters, he would crumble to ash.  But most of all, he was scared he would rush to her side and beg her to take him back.  Beg her to give up everything to be with him.  He couldn’t be that selfish.

        He felt himself rise from the chair, intent on self-torture.  He could no longer resist her.  He had to see for himself what she had written.   He needed her so badly, but he would settle for the letters.

 

        Rumpel—

 

I made my father cancel the ball.  He wasn’t pleased, but I finally got my way.  There’s not much sense in having a ball if the birthday girl refuses to come. I miss you so much.  If nothing else, please write and let me know you’re well.

 

I love you—

Belle

 

 

He chose one from several months ago.  He wouldn’t be able to get through all of them, but he was most curious about what she was doing now.

 

 

        Rumpel—

 

I’ve finally finished my schooling.  I’m going home.  Please come to see me.  You do realize that you broke our deal, don’t you?  You owe me four days a month starting next month, not to mention those that you missed last summer.  Please come visit me.  I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.  I miss you so much.  My heart breaks a little more each day.  I wait for you and fall asleep in the garden hoping that you’ll come to me.  Are you well?  I don’t even know if you’re still alive.  I need you, Rumpel.

 

I love you—

Belle

        Tears, he was sure that was tears splattered all over this one, making the ink blurry.  He wiped the tears from his own face and picked up the letter that had been delivered yesterday.

 

        Rumpel—

 

I wanted to thank you, Rumpelstiltskin.  Thank you for being my friend and for letting me share my life with you.  You cared for me, I know you did, at least for a time.  You don’t realize how much I needed you that day in the meadow.  I’d just lost my mother, and you were there for me when my own father couldn’t be.  In all the time I knew you, I knew I loved you.  I still love you.  We could have been so happy, if you had just let me in.  Papa has arranged for me to marry.  I’m so frightened of him, but with the war with the ogres looming ever closer, perhaps it is for the best to align our kingdoms.  Gaston is big and mean and cruel and he tries to hurt me when he thinks my father isn’t looking.  But I will endure.  I will do my duty and marry and produce an heir to the throne and be a good little princess.  But my heart. . . my heart will forever be yours.  Tomorrow is my birthday, my love.  I know you haven’t forgotten, but I know you won’t come to me.  In a month I will be married and I will have to put away my childish dreams, dreams where you come for me and take me away.  Dreams where you love me too.  Gods!  I’m so bloody pathetic.  You probably still think of me as your little pet.  I promise this will be my last letter.  I just had to tell you once more that I will always love you, Rumpelstiltskin.

 

Forever—

Belle

 

 

        How could he have left her to suffer?  For two years she’d been in the same black pit of despair that he wallowed in.  She still loved him.  How could she still love him?  How could she have loved him in the first place?  He was a monster and completely unworthy of her love.  And all he could think of was that she wanted him, she loved him, and she needed him as much as he needed her.  He needed her more than the air he breathed.  He’d done the noble thing, the right thing and he’d walked away.  But she was a fully grown woman now and she wanted him still.  And he knew he would rather die than be apart from her for one more day.

        He searched through his messages scattered across the dining table.  Hadn’t he seen a request for help from the King of Avonlea just yesterday?  But he had been besotted with whiskey and hadn’t made the connection.  He found the missive with the king’s bold scrawl and tucked it safely away in his jacket, a slow smile curving his lips.  The first smile to grace his lips since he’d parted from his Belle.  Hope flared in his chest.  “I’m coming, love.”

 

xooox

 

 

        The terrace garden was deserted when he arrived in his usual plume of smoke.  He remained perfectly still, his heightened hearing listening for any trace of movement from her bedroom.  Nothing.  It was then he saw it, the red burning haze in the distance.  It seemed that the king had taken his sweet time in asking for aid from the Dark One.  He could sense fear in the air.  A lot of fear.  But where was his Belle?  He drew his cloak around him, thankful for his dark clothes to shield him in the shadows, and left in search of her.

        The need to make a deal had always been a part of him, part of his nature, and part of the curse.  The pull of a desperate soul was like drink calling to an alcoholic, and there was a multitude of desperate souls wandering the castle this evening.  But his Belle shouldn’t have been one of them.  He could sense her desperation, but more so her fear.  She was in danger.  Closing his eyes, he poured his concentration into finding her, letting her pull him through the void to her.  What he saw made his blood run cold.  His princess was pressed up against the wall, her eyes squeezed shut in terror, a hand covering her mouth to prevent her screams.  The brute handling her had his hand up her skirt, pinching and twisting the creamy flesh of her thigh.  With a snap of his fingers the lout was bound, trussed up and gagged like a Christmas goose.  With another gesture of his hand, Rumpelstiltskin magicked the man to the terrace garden.  He would let Belle choose the punishment.

        Belle whimpered as she was released and collapsed in a puddle of skirts at his feet, gasping for breath.  Her eyes remained closed as she dragged air into her starving lungs.  He gathered her in his arms and magicked them back to her bedroom where he laid her gently on her bed.

        “Rumpel?”

        He pulled the hood of his cloak back to reveal his face, hoping to put her at ease.  “Yes, pet, it’s me.”

        She threw herself at him, her unexpected weight knocking him to the floor and she atop his chest, his arms going around her and holding her close to his heart.  “You came for me,” she sobbed, her heart pouring from her eyes.  “What took you so long?”

        She straddled his lap as he sat up with her and wrapped her arms about his neck.  “It’s alright, pet.  It’s alright,” he whispered softly against her hair as he stroked her back, his other arm tight about her waist.  It just felt so good to have her in his arms, even if she was sobbing like a wee infant in her relief.

        “I died the night you left me,” she sobbed.  “How could you leave me?  I needed you.”

        He couldn’t help himself, he wept openly in her arms, from shock or grief or relief, he wasn’t certain.  “Please, love, you’re killing me.  I didn’t want to leave you.  It would have been simpler to rip my own heart from my chest.  But you were still a child.  I could not do that to you.”

        She balled up her tiny fist and punched him in his chest.  “Excuses!  You left because you were afraid.  My mother was sixteen when she married my father.  My age had nothing to do with it,” she hissed angrily.  She moved to get off his lap but his hands held her firm.  He’d waited long enough, he wouldn’t easily be parted from her again.

        “I would not even consider it until you reached your majority.  I’m sorry, dearie.  I may be a monster, but I don’t take advantage of children.  I was your friend, your protector, your confidante, not your ravisher.”

        Belle cupped his face in her hands and rested her brow to his, happy when he didn’t push her away.  “Why did you come back?”

        He wouldn’t keep the truth from her any longer.  “Because I love you.  You asked me did I love you even a little and I left you.  I did love you then and I love you now, sweetheart.”  He pressed his lips to her, that sweet gentle kiss of true love and she melted into him, her lips parting on a small gasp of bliss, allowing his tongue to dip into her mouth and stroke her tongue with his.  She threaded her hands in his hair, her nails scraping against his scalp and drawing a moan deep from his throat, holding him to her and losing herself to his mouth and what it was making her feel.

        When the need for air was past the unbearable stage, she let him go and smiled against his lips.  “I love you, Rumpelstiltskin.  For my whole life it seems I have loved you.”

        “And I will have forever to show you just how much I love you.  But first, I need to know what you know about this,” he said, drawing the letter from his pocket.

        Belle scanned it quickly, a frown puckering her brow.  “He sent for you?  How could I not have known?”

        He wasn’t surprised that the king hadn’t confided in his daughter.  The man saw her as a political chess piece.  He’d never known just how bright she was.  “No matter.”  He helped her to her feet and tugged on her hand to follow him into the garden where Gaston was trussed and gagged on the path.  “I didn’t kill him.  I thought you should have the right to punish him for what he did to you.”

        Belle was thoughtful and quiet for a moment.  “I can’t ask you to commit murder, Rumpel and I have never asked you to do magic—“

        “We could always turn him into a snail and let him live in the garden, pet,” he suggested.

        A devilish glint lit her blue eyes as she remembered how many times Gaston had found her alone and manhandled her.  “I’ll just leave you to it then,” she said and turned on her heel to go back inside.

        “You heard the lady.”  _Snap!_   He refrained from squashing the bastard beneath his boot. . . just barely.  He slipped into the shadows and drew his cloak about him as Belle’s maid entered the room.

        “Highness, your father is asking that you join him in the war room,” the maid huffed, out of breath in her haste to deliver the message.

        Belle nodded.  “Tell him I will be there shortly, Berta.  Go, I shan’t be long.”  She closed and locked the door behind the maid and searched for Rumpelstiltskin.  She could feel his presence even though she couldn’t see him.  “Rumpel,” she whispered.

        He waited until her back was to him and slipped his arms about her waist, pulling her back against his chest.  She rested her head against his shoulder and nuzzled her lips against his throat.  “That’s quite distracting, pet.”

        She hummed her pleasure, but she didn’t stop.  He would just have to deal with the consequences of their separation.  “So what are we going to do now?”

        “That depends on you.  Are you willing to come away with me?  Are you willing to live with me and be my wife and share my bed?  Forever?” he asked silkily against her ear.

        “I’ve waited two years to hear that offer.  Do you really think I’m going to say no?  That’s a deal I desperately want to be a part of,” she said softly, turning in his arms and kissing him to seal their deal.

        An evil giggle trilled through her bedroom.  “Very well, pet.  But you have to promise to follow my lead and don’t get upset with anything I may say or do.  Alright?”  Belle nodded trying to fight the smile that was threatening at her lips at his devious tone.  “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

 

 

xooox

 

 

        Belle walked quickly to meet her father, her nails biting into her palms to help her keep a serene expression upon her features.  She was giddy with happiness to be reunited with her true love and now there was only one small step she had to take before they could begin their life together.  The doors opened to give her access to the room and she moved to her father’s side, not trusting herself to speak.  The occupants of the room were discussing their decision to call upon the Dark One and how wise that had been.  She jumped when the knock came at the door.  She felt the sizzle of magic in the air behind her as they men scrambled to open the door, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning.  They did look a bit foolish, milling about the door while Rumpelstiltskin was patiently waiting behind them all.

        “Well, that was a bit of a letdown,” he said, in full Dark One persona, his giggle trilling shrilly through the room, a complete polar opposite to how he was with her.  His dark eyes settled on her father.  “You sent me a message, something about. . . Help! Help!  We’re dying.  Can you save us?”  He rose from the throne-like chair her father favored and strolled confidently among them.  “Now the answer is, yes, I can.  Yes, I can protect your little town, for a price.”  He made certain his back was to the others before winking at her.

        King Maurice lifted his chin defiantly.  “We sent you a promise of gold.”

        “Ah now you see. . . I, uh, make gold.  What I want is something a bit more special.”  His eyes raked over her and Belle swore she could feel every promise he’d made to her in their amber depths.  “My price. . .  is her,” he finished in a low tone, pointing his long finger in her direction.

        The room erupted in protests, but it was the king’s voice that could be heard over the din.  “No.  She is betrothed to Sir Gaston to align our kingdoms.”

        Rumpelstiltskin laughed.  “I wasn’t asking if she was engaged.  I’m not looking for love.” His eyes met hers for the briefest of seconds, pleading with her not to take offense.  “I’m looking for a caretaker, for my rather large estate.”

        Belle snorted.  She sent him a look that said _sorry, it just slipped out._

        He continued, “It’s her. . . or no deal.”

        The king swore softly under his breath.  “Get out.  Leave!”

        He looked at Belle as he moved toward the door and gave an imperceptible shake of his head.  “As you wish.”

        Belle perked up.  “No, wait.”  She moved from behind the great hulking knight that was standing guard over her.  She strode forward to stand before him.  “I will go with him.”

        Her father blanched, the color leaving his face.  “I forbid it.”

        Belle wasn’t about to deviate from their plan to stay in Avonlea with her father.  She loved him, her parent, but she loved Rumpelstiltskin more.  “No one decides my fate but me.  I shall go.”

        He stepped to her side, his hand at the small of her back.  “It’s forever, dearie.”

        Wanting to make it look good she said, “My family, my friends, they will all live?”

        “You have my word.”

        She also had his word that he’d love her forever.  That was all she’d needed to secure her own word.  This way she would get her true love and Avonlea would survive the ogre war.  She lifted her chin and glared haughtily at him.  She knew she’d pay for that gesture later when they were alone.  “Then you have mine.  I will go with you. . . forever.”

        “Deal!”  There was that maniacal giggle again.  She would have to have a talk with him about that as well.

        And there was her father with one last ditch effort to get her to listen to him.  “Belle!  Belle, you cannot do this.  Belle, please.  You can’t go with this beast.”

        She felt her hackles rise at that comment.  Rumpelstiltskin placed his hand over his heart and had the nerve to look shocked. She turned back to look at her father, placing her hand on his shoulder.  “Papa, it’s been decided.”

        Rumpelstiltskin moved back to her side and sneered at the king over her shoulder.  “She’s right.  The deal is struck.”  He placed his hand in the small of her back and turned her toward the door.  But of course, being the Dark One, he had to leave with one last barb.  “Oh!  Congratulations on your little war.”  As soon as the doors to the war room closed behind them, he magicked them to her bedroom in case she wanted to take anything with her.  She would definitely _not_ be coming back.

        Belle wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him forward for a lingering kiss.  “That was just awful of you, Rumpel.  But it was fun,” she said, collapsing into a fit of laughter.

        “At least everyone came out of the deal happy.”  He thought for a moment.  “Well, except your father.”

        “And Gaston,” she snickered.

        He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in.  “Are you ready to go home, love?”

        She sighed in contentment.  “I’ve been ready for two years, Rumpel.” 

 

 

THE END


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